The suffocating taste of metal filled my mouth as my chest screamed in protest. Finally, I slowed from a sprint into a stumbling walk, and for the first time, I dared to turn to face the road behind me. Half a day? I wondered, gasping for breath, trying to figure out for how long I had been running and how far I'd come. My legs were shaking with fatigue as I again turned, trudged onwards, determined to make it into the treeline glimpsing in the distance.

I held Cat in a tight embrace against my heaving chest; by now, he was dead cold, and a single dried drop of crimson red adorned his tiny snout.

"I'll find you someplace nice," I whispered as I wandered on, if anything to calm myself. On the inside, fear was the only real thought. Fear of what I'd done, fear of father Norn's words, and fear of the people who surely were on my trail by now with sharpened spears in hand. Maybe I was cursed after all.

The few farmhands I had passed earlier in my flight did so in a blur, and by now, the land was lush and wild. A family of roe deer watched me with their heads curiously raised, ears twitching. Our eyes met just as my stomach let out a dull groan, and as if in understanding, they decidedly bolted across the grasslands. If only I had had the foresight to pack some bread before running off.

A slow rumbling at the back of my mind sent a shiver down my spine and pulled me from hungry thoughts. I stopped to listen, hoping it was just my mind playing tricks. But alas, there it was again. It was more of a feeling than an actual sound, as if the ground itself was telling me to pick up my pace. Someone was coming down the road, and fast.

The distant rumbling was soon accompanied by a deep thundering roar from the skies above as dark clouds menacingly drifted in from the north. The first few drops hit my face as I broke off from the road, desperately wading through the deep grass towards the first straggler trees. Not a moment too early. Soon a handful of horses appeared on the road, their riders clad in the usual brown and gray carried by village folk, all but the man at the front, who instead gave off a modest shimmer in the dimming daylight.

"The trail stops 'ere, he's taken to the woods!" Barold's booming voice echoed behind me as I struggled deeper into the underbrush, all while heavy droplets of rain filled the forest with sounds.

A pair of magpies flew in distress, up among the branches, as I pushed my way through a thicket of young hazel. Angrily, they chirped and chattered at me for disturbing. I paid them little mind. Around, I could hear the voices of farmhands, yelling, conversing, and calling each other. They seemed to be all around. Every rustling step set the hairs in my neck on end, and the increasing rain muddled all sounds, making it worse. There could be an armed farmer or a peddler waiting behind the next bush. Every mossy stone or crooked trunk threatened to be hiding a villager, wielding an axe or nasty club. My sore shoulder reminded me of the last time I had such an encounter, and I did not intend to have a second taste.

Then, as I lifted a low hanging branch aside, a figure sat resting atop a fallen stump. Our eyes met, and while we both froze up in stunned surprise, I soon came to and broke out into a sprint. Twisting and turning, panic took hold of me as I, in my flight, abandoned all sense of direction. The shouting became louder, closer, nearing me from every opening in the dense forest. And then I stumbled, fell, and tumbled through wet mud down a short slope.

I landed hard on my back, and the wind got knocked straight out of my gaping mouth. Struggling, crying, gasping, and wheezing, I got back up, still desperately clutching Cat against my chest. But before I had taken three steps, my heart sank as a figure, larger than the last, stepped out towards me from the shadows. The rain hammered around us and drowned out all sound as I cried bitterly.

Barold held neither club nor spear. In his right hand, he grasped a short, stubby sword, and atop the brown tunic, he carried a leather harness adorned with hammered iron-plates. He glared at me, his face twisted with wrath.

"You..." He growled through gritted teeth as tears formed and fell, accompanied by the rain as it ran through his beard, dripping onto the shiny metal below. "You..." He stepped closer, gripping the sword ever tighter.

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"I'm sorry!..." I cried, "...I never meant to..." a hiccup forced its way up my throat as I began heaving and coughing, "...I didn't mean to! You were so nice... I'm sorry!"

I clutched Cat even harder, bracing for what was to come, crying harder than I ever had before as regret washed over me.

"Please stop," I whispered, and for a moment, it was as if even the rain lessened.

I looked up, only to see the sword sink deep into the earth beside me, and my heart skipped a beat in response. Barold knelt on the ground next to me, still gripping the hilt with a calloused fist. Then heavy sniffles sounded from the large man as his back began shaking. Tears once again filled my eyes, and while we cried in unison, though for differing reasons, the rain returned with vengeance.

After a while, Barold stood up, pulling out his sword effortlessly from the moss-covered dirt.

"I don't know who or what you are, boy, but I do know it wasn't your fault. Vaylia told us everything once she'd come to," He said, while struggling to keep the tears at bay. "...But in my heart, I hope you understand, I can never forgive you."

The large man stepped back into the shadows, but before he disappeared among the trees, he turned one last time, "I pray we never see each other again." And so he left me to myself, leaving behind the naked understanding of the pain I had caused.

I took shelter under the branches of a nearby fir, crawling as I didn't trust my legs to carry me. In the distance, a horn sounded twice over, then again moments after, but now further away. The farmers were abandoning their chase, but my heart felt no lighter. Somewhere, far back in my head, I felt a sting of regret, as if I wished they had ended me, relieved me of this pain and guilt.

Reveling in self pity, I unbuckled the knapsack and pulled my blanket from within. I folded it thrice and then carefully placed Cat's tiny frame atop it. And then I leaned up against the trunk of the tree and prayed for the first time. I prayed for the gods to forgive me, I prayed for them to tell mother how I wish I had been a better son. I prayed for them to help those I had hurt, I prayed for them to lead my poor Cat to wherever kittens go. And then I cried some more until my exhaustion caught up, and my eyes fell heavy, as I plunged into a deep sleep.

My dreams that night were of a dark place, a space deep within or so far outside, I failed to fathom even a grain of its extent. A voice spoke words I at first struggled to understand, but then they were my own, then my mother's, then again someone else's. Cat was there, walking by my side and purring content as we continued further out into the sprawling dark.

"I'll miss you," I said, but the voice giggled in response.

"Why?" it asked.

I watched around me, confused. "Because he is dead," I explained, but again chiming laughter filled the gaping chasm.

"Not he, but she," echoes rang around me as I looked down at Cat.

"So you're a lady?" I asked, and she looked back at me purring so loud it drowned out my every thought.

"See, not dead!" The voice cheered.

Then the journey continued. I wandered through a void of nothingness blooming with smells and memories, things I recognized but had never seen before.

"Remember?" Faces unknown, sounds and ideas belonging to someone that was me, but also not me.

"Remember?" A light growing closer and drunken song.

"Remember!?" Then, a sudden crash!

I awoke with a jolt so abrupt I inhaled half a mouthful of fir needles in drowsy confusion. Spitting and coughing, I rubbed my eyes from caked dirt and dried tears. But when I turned to look at my blanket, Cat's body was nowhere to be seen. I grabbed my things and crawled out from my hiding, into the morning sun. A fox? I clenched my jaw and looked around for a clue, some hungry bird? Maybe the magpies had returned for revenge?

But as my gaze darted across the surroundings, a chill crawled up my scalp. Under the fir where I had just spent the night, I could have sworn I saw a shadow, a small dark shape by the trunk, and a pair of large gleaming eyes meeting mine. But when I again turned to face the spot—nothing.

I tried to comfort myself with the idea that some poor, starving creature out there got to live another day because of my failure, but as expected, it did nothing to wash away how stupid I felt for having broken my promise of finding Cat a proper resting place.

Eventually, I gave up my search; angrily accepting the disappearance. Instead I made my way back to the road, facing east with the help of the morning sun's warm greeting. While walking, I couldn't help but ponder over the strange dreams I had had. The voice felt so real, so familiar, yet unearthly, and it left a faint tingling in my chest.

Again, my stomach gurgled and rumbled, demanded attention as I dragged my feet onwards. But for a brief moment, I could have sworn it sounded just like purring.